


Good Ship Enterprise

by wheel_pen



Series: Miscellaneous Enterprise Stories [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen, Klingons, sea chanteys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3406556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm teaches some Klingons the fine British tradition of naval songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Ship Enterprise

**Author's Note:**

> Several bad words and unpleasant images in this one. I blame pirates. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

Archer eyed the ship on the viewscreen warily. "Weapons?" he prompted the ensign at the Tactical station. He wouldn't have had to prompt _Malcolm_.

"Not charged, sir," the man replied, appropriately perplexed.

"Could they not have seen us?" Archer asked T'Pol dubiously.

"It is unlikely," she confirmed.

"But the warp trail matches?" he pressed.

"It does," the First Officer agreed. "This _is_ the Klingon vessel that abducted Lt. Reed."

Archer steeled himself and nodded towards Hoshi. "Open hailing frequencies." He waited for Hoshi's signal after her fingers had danced across her console, but instead he saw her blanch slightly. "Hoshi?"

"Um, sir, there's something coming in," the Communications Officer revealed slowly. Her eyes widened as she listened to the transmission.

"From the Klingons?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, let's hear it, then," Archer insisted.

"Um, well..." She hesitated, blushing beet red.

"Hoshi," the Captain warned.

"Yes, sir." She might as well have said, 'You'll be sorry.'

Horrible sounds emanated from the speakers. "Good G-d, are they _torturing_ him?" Trip gasped behind Archer's shoulder.

"Just wait, sir," Hoshi suggested, now slightly smug.

After a moment Archer realized he wasn't listening to the screams and sobs of an agonized soul. "Is that..." he began in confusion. "Are the Klingons... _singing_?"

"They _are_ torturing him," Trip repeated, more sardonically this time.

"I can't quite make out the words," Archer admitted, unsure if he really wanted to.

The song seemed to end in a raucous cheer from the whole choir, and then another voice broke through. " _Okay, now this_ next _verse is_ really _bad..._ " The voice did not sound Klingon, but rather... British. And rather… drunk.

"Malcolm?" Archer mouthed to Trip, who nodded his agreement. Archer was about to speak more forcefully when his kidnapped Tactical Officer started to sing.

" _The cabin boy was Kipper,_  
_A dirty little nipper,_  
_We stuffed his arse with broken glass_  
_To circumcise the skipper!_ "

Archer realized his mouth was still hanging open and attempted to shut it. It was no use, however, when he heard the Klingons heartily attempt to sing the verse Malcolm had just taught them. They seemed to appreciate the inherent artistic merit of the work and automatically followed up with what Archer presumed was the chorus.

" _Twas on the good ship Venus,_  
_By God you should have seen us,_  
_The figurehead was a whore in bed_  
_And the mast the Captain's penis!_ "

" _Excellent, excellent!_ " Malcolm assured them enthusiastically, slurring the words. " _The next one's about the ship's dog... which is kind of like one those_ targ _things... except in the song the dog's name is Rover, and really our dog's name is Porthos, but that doesn't rhyme so well with—_ "

Archer finally found his voice. "Malcolm!"

" _That sounds like my captain_ ," Reed observed unsteadily. " _Sing along, Captain, if you know the words!_ "

" _The ship's dog's name was Rover,  
The whole crew had him over—_ "

"Lieutenant Reed! Lieu—Lieutenant!" Archer snapped into the comm.

" _Sir, you're breaking my rhythm_ ," Malcolm complained.

"I would like to speak to the Klingon captain, please," Archer ground out.

" _Right_ ," Malcolm agreed distractedly. " _Um, Captain! Captain Krelik!_ "

" _Why have you stopped?_ " a deep and distinctly Klingon voice demanded, also sounding not entirely sober himself. " _You said there were more verses!_ "

" _My captain's on the line_ ," Reed explained and Archer rubbed his hand over his eyes in frustration. " _He's an American—that's a different kind of human. They don't have the same grand naval tradition as the British, so—_ "

"Captain Krelik!" Archer said insistently.

" _Yes? What do you want?_ " the gruff voice demanded.

Archer was suddenly glad the transmission was audio only. He really didn't think he could handle _seeing_ Malcolm party with a bunch of drunken Klingons; he could already _hear_ him again in the background, teaching them the next G-d-awful verse to the sea chantey.

"This is Captain Archer of the _Enterprise_ ," Archer began severely. "I want my Armory Officer back!"

" _Lieutenant Reed has been most entertaining, Captain_ ," Krelik replied, sounding slightly miffed that Archer wanted to take him away. Archer never imagined he would associate the word 'miffed' with a Klingon. " _We have been exchanging songs from the great sailing traditions of our people!_ "

"And I'm certainly not one to refuse a cultural exchange," Archer assured him, hoping the note of insincerity in his voice would not be detectable by the inebriated Klingon. "But Lt. Reed _was_... removed from our ship rather abruptly, and we'd like to have him back. Immediately."

" _Very well_ ," Krelik grumbled, petulantly. Also not a word Archer would have scribbled next to 'Klingon' in his notes. " _But we insist you transmit a copy of this fine epic verse to us!_ "

Archer closed his eyes a moment. "Certainly, if it's in our database." He turned to his Communications Officer pleadingly. "Hoshi?"

"It's called _Good Ship Venus_ , Captain," she supplied pertly, peering at the screen. She glanced back up at him. "There seem to be a number of rather... bawdy British seafaring songs in the computer, sir."

"Send them all!" Archer declared sweepingly. "Let's not stand in the way of diplomatic relations." His ironic tone was not lost on several of the Bridge crew.

"Yes, sir." Archer had the feeling this story was going to be not just all over the ship, but all over the Starfleet communications networks before the end of the day.

"Captain Krelik?" he prompted.

" _Lt. Reed!_ " the Klingon boomed. " _We have enjoyed your visit immensely. May you be struck down in the midst of battle, disemboweling your enemies to the last!_ "

" _Thank you, sir_ ," Malcolm replied, obviously touched. " _That's really very sweet_."

Archer did not dare make eye contact with Trip. "We'll just beam him back, now," he mentioned, nodding at the ensign at Tactical. Archer gave them a moment, then hit a button on the arm of his chair and said, "Archer to Transporter. Have you got him?"

He was rewarded with a fresh burst of song.

" _The second mate's name was Andy,  
His balls were long and bandy_..."

" _Yes, sir_ ," the increasingly doubtful ensign at the transporter controls replied. " _We've... got... him..._ " She sounded like she was about to add, 'like it or not.'

"Escort Lt. Reed to Sickbay," Archer ordered, standing. "I'll be right there. T'Pol, you have the Bridge."

"I'm comin' too," Trip announced, a huge grin on his face as he jumped into the lift. He intended to get a _lot_ of mileage out of this one—as soon as Malcolm sobered up, that is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to “Good Ship Venus” on the Rogue’s Gallery album.


End file.
